


Sometimes Dreams Require A Little Construction First

by Mary_Jane221B



Category: Inception (2010), NBT Verse
Genre: Angst, Construction zone, Fluff, M/M, NBT Verse - Freeform, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mary_Jane221B/pseuds/Mary_Jane221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Eames. Pre-NBT but post Fixer upper. There's a little construction, a lot of angst and a fairly heavy splash of M/M porn times.</p>
<p>Also featuring tuxedos in various states, bad work practices and some questionable french...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes Dreams Require A Little Construction First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Next Big Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349583) by [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 



> Hello Darlings, 
> 
> Completely un-betaed but it's taken more than a week and it's finally done so i'm posting now. If there are any glaring errors or inaccuracies (basically if Eames ended up with three arms at some point) feel free to point them out in the comments and i'll edit tomorrow when i'm more awake :) 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> RMJ X
> 
> (Oh and it's my first time writing anything above an M rating so I apologise if this makes little sense.)

“Eames!” Arthur allowed himself the satisfaction of slamming through the front door of the building site he was certain Eames was occupying. He was always fucking here now, whenever Arthur needed him, whenever he couldn’t find him where he promised he would be he was here.  “Where the fuck are you? You promised Eames, you fucking promised me.”

Arthur was beyond pissed off, Eames had promised he would be on time for once but as always Arthur had been left at an event having to deal with the nervous glances of their co-workers and pretend he could not hear the gossiping dates of Matt and Franco as they muttered theories about trouble in paradise that flew from poorly covered lips.  He did not feel as if he had been asking too much of the man, they should have been celebrating fifty episodes of their show after all.

He had even worn the Burberry tuxedo Eames had picked out weeks ago hoping to elicit the level of unbridled passion that seemed to have petered out over the last two months. Ever since their disastrous bloody Valentine’s Day they’d been dancing around each other. But Arthur had put up with enough, his tolerance had reached its limit and he was going to have to confront the man before he did something truly reprehensible like stab Cobb in the eye with a salad fork, a highly specific fantasy he had concocted this evening after he had watched the man bring attention to Eames absence not once, not twice but bloody seven times. The man had even dropped it into his fucking speech; Arthur had never been this pissed off with anyone. Not even in sixth grade when Billy-fucking-Daniels had called him a butt muncher and he had been reduced to tackling the older boy into a mud puddle.

Arthur wandered through the labyrinth of empty rooms finally finding the English man huddled over work plans with his mobile jammed between his shoulder and ear so he could continue talking while rummaging through the boxes of files on the floor. This entire project had been so terribly organised, Arthur had continuously found folders of documents scattered everywhere Eames spent any length of time. His own coffee table had ended up covered in them last week before he had put his foot down with Eames about cluttering his space.

Arthur kicked one of the boxes causing it to go careening into a floor lamp yet Eames continued to pay him no mind while he riffled through the boxes haphazardly arranged on the marble floor.

“Yes sir I understand what you’re saying and I know this must be complicated for you to arrange but I really need that delivery to be here on Tuesday else my entire week has to be reorganised.”

Arthur kicked the box to his left which caused an avalanche of loose documents to spill across the floor, Eames shot the movement a dirty look but refused to meet Arthur’s eyes choosing instead to crawl across the loose paper to another of the boxes, he wrestled with the overfilled folder on top before pulling out a thinner manila one.

“Sir if you’ll just hold on I’m locating the order number now it’s right here. Yes I’ve found it, order number 01TX-456V-00SI. Yes I can hold.” Eames moved to cover the mouth piece before finally looking up at Arthur who had stopped kicking boxes in favour of crossing his arms and sending his boyfriend a death glare unlike any he had attempted before, he had been aiming for thunderous and the fearful look Eames shot him in response it was working.

The truth was before finding him Arthur had been half worried the man had managed to get himself into some form of accident. Worksites, especially those projects managed by someone as flighty as Eames, had a tendency to be hazardous; without Joe or Paul here to keep him in line it hardly seemed beyond reason to prophesise Eames being injured. He was likely to be found bleeding out somewhere because the fool had forgotten to wear a hard hat.

“Arthur, Darling, what are you doing here?”  Arthur was gob smacked, Eames had actually forgotten, he had forgotten the party; a party for their bloody show. He had forgotten and had left Arthur standing there looking like a clown in a bespoke suit. To be the target of pity and Arthur hated fucking pity. He found himself kicking another box, this one’s trajectory happened to be Eames but the man jumped out of the way before it hit.

“What the hell Arthur?”

“You fucking forgot! You are a fucking Bastard! You selfish fucking horrible bastard!”

“Forgot? Forgot What?” Arthur screamed slightly and up ended the nearest piece of furniture, he had no idea what it was but it made a highly satisfactory crunching sound. “Arthur for God sake calm down! You’re going to hurt yourself”

“Hurt myself? Hurt myself! Why would I need to do that when you’re so fucking good at it? You bastard.” Arthur screamed; the last bit came out on a slight sob but Arthur could not bring himself to care.

The confused look Eames wore only infuriated Arthur further. Destruction had felt good; he decided that was the path to continue down. Eames had forgotten Arthur in favour of this house; this house Arthur had found for him. Which surely meant Arthur held the right to rip the place down to its foundations, he certainly thought so. Arthur stormed away from Eames in search of more things he could destroy. He had not spent enough time here to know the layout but he figured following the clear walk ways would lead him to something breakable.  Arthur heard Eames call out from behind him but the voice is far enough away that Arthur knew Eames had not followed him.  

He took a left in the entrance hall and ended up in what he believed Eames was planning on using as a gallery or exhibition space, what sort of twat needed exhibition space, Eames did because he had clearly fallen in love with some sort of pompous British artist who didn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone outside of their work. How could he have done this again, fallen for this again, why did he never learn.

Arthur picked up the nearest object, a screwdriver and threw it across the room as far as he could it came down to the floor with a loud skittering noise that was in no way as satisfying as that mystery furniture breaking. He would have to find something bigger then.

“Arthur what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Eames said quietly from behind him he had brought the small portable lamp with him and was illuminating the scene before him. “Arthur love, why are you crying?” Eames moves towards him before abruptly stopping when the lamp illuminated the hole Arthur had created in the far wall. “Why are you throwing things?”

“I am throwing things because you are a bastard. You are a bastard and I am crying Eames because no matter what I do you’re always fucking leaving me, you’re always going to aren’t you. I’m going to do something wrong, like at Valentines and you’re just going to leave. You’re always going to leave.” Arthur sobbed in earnest now; his breaths rattling with the effort used forcing those words out. He had been so scared for so many weeks, he had felt Eames drawing away and he couldn’t think of how to stop him. He just knew he was losing him; again, he was always going to lose him. “I’m never going to be good enough to keep you.”

“Arthur, God no love why are you saying that?” Eames placed the lamp on the floor and moved towards him, his arms outstretched but Arthur couldn’t let this continue, he would not be the one left alone this time.

“I’m saying it Eames because you clearly don’t give a fuck about me anymore.” Arthur said as he shrunk back from Eames who stopped in his movements towards Arthur in response.

“Of course I do Arthur, how can you say that.”

“Because if you did you would have been there, I was waiting for you and you missed it. You keep missing everything; you’re always here whenever I want you. Why are you always here! I wish I’d never found you this fucking house Eames because it’s wrecked everything.” Arthur watched Eames shake his head slowly from side to side before looking away from the wall where Arthur had ended up leaning.

Neither of them said anything for several minutes. They weren’t making eye contact at all and Arthur just let his emotions overwhelm him. He clasped his face in his hands and sunk down the wall until he was seated with his knees up and his face hidden.

"You're driving me insane Arthur,” Eames said; his voice quite when he finally spoke, much quieter than Arthur would have anticipated. “You keep pushing me and pushing me and sometimes I think you just want me to snap.” Eames said as he slashed his hand through the air before he turned to face Arthur who had ended up crouched on the floor. In the pale light Eames face seemed more angular the shadows being cast across it creating shadows and more defined lines then were present at any other time. “You just keep on at me and I don’t know what else I can do. It’s too much love, everything, it’s all so much more than I can handle.”

Arthur couldn’t even bring himself to feel anything other than sadness, the pain, the rage, that would all come later but he had been here before. He always ends up here.

“Everyone keeps going on about how I’ve not won a challenge for months and you don’t fucking say anything. You’ve said it yourself you go on and on about that show and I feel like I just can’t do anything right. Like you think I’m just shit, like I’m not putting in any effort when that’s all I’m doing.” Eames voice continued to rise until he was shouting, his voice reverberating around the empty space. “When you know the fucking reason, everyone does, I’m at my fucking wits end and all you're talking about is that television show. News flash love I don't care!"

Arthur allowed the words to cut him as deeply as he knew they would, Eames didn’t care; he had known it was coming but still the pain was there. He looked up and let the pain and anger come to the fore again, he had always been good at compartmentalizing his emotions. The amount of drink he had imbibed over the evening was impairing his emotional balance but not his judgement. He felt as if it had made him braver.  He pushed himself off the ground and brushed the tears from his eyes with his knuckles.

“You don’t care anymore Eames then fine, that’s fine. You don’t need to. You don’t need to give a shit. I guess this is it then, it’s been fun, we’ve had a good run.” Arthur brushed down his trousers and made to leave the room, leave the building and leave Eames. “Goodbye Mr. Eames.”

But strong arms enclose his chest. Eames was dragging him back so his back was plastered to the taller mans chest. Arthur strove to get free; he flailed his upper body trying to disengage Eames lock.

“Let me go Eames, you don’t care.”

“You’re saying goodbye; you think we end this way! Arthur you’re not listening, you never just listen to me!”

“No. Let me go. I listened, I heard. You said it all, you don’t care so neither will I. Now let. Me. Go.” Arthur bit down on the nearest chunk of Eames arm to his mouth. Eames dropped his hold and swore violently while checking to see if Arthur had managed to draw blood.

“You haven’t been listening though, you’re hearing what you expect to hear pet.” Eames spat the endearment out, the harshness of it made Arthur flinch. “You think I’m going to leave you. You think I don’t care about you. That’s what you’ve convinced yourself of; because you’re so fucking blind to the fact I’m killing myself trying to be everything for you. I’m trying so fucking hard Arthur, to be everything you could need and I’m clearly failing miserably.” Eames said, kicking at a loose tile. Arthur had never heard Eames sound so uncertain, he made a small noise of distress at the clear signs the man he loved was hurting.

“There is nothing I can do to convince you I love you and am never going to fucking leave you again is there. You’re never really going to forgive me. Are you?” Eames asked.

Had Arthur ever forgiven him, he wasn’t certain but he found it difficult to forget when the two of them fought in anyway, Eames had left him, through choice and that pain hadn’t just vanished after it had spent so long festering in his mind.

“Of course you’re not and why the hell should you. Just look at you Arthur. You in that suit, you could have anyone and there is no earthly reason why you should pick me. Is there? What could I possibly offer you, I mean who the fuck have I been trying to kid.” Eames body shook with laughter but the hysterical nature of it boarded closer to panic than Arthur had ever heard Eames come before. “I’m so shit at this, this feelings bit, the making myself open for someone. Between you, my parents, this place, the television show, my fucking staff and just everything. I am drowning here. This is all so new to me Arthur and I am so fucking scared.” Eames choked out the last sentence refusing to meet Arthur’s eyes any longer. “Yet all you care about is the fact I missed a fucking party. A party Arthur? Really?” Eames asked with a tone of growing incredulity. “Why can’t you ever just see me Arthur, why can’t I just be enough. I’m never going to be perfect love, I can try all I want but I’m never going to be the man you seem to think I am. I’m just me and to be honest Arthur, Darling, you deserve so much better.”  

Arthur felt stunned by the outburst, numb almost. He had been running on the adrenaline of their argument, of the physicality of the whole dance but the atmosphere had changed. It had shifted and he opened his eyes to the man in front of him; the man he had been in love with for years. He regarded him without the bias of pain or rejection for the first time in forever.

His hair had grown longer than Arthur had ever known it, there were dark rings framing his eyes. Arthur knew the man hadn’t been sleeping properly but he’d allowed himself to feel neglected when he woke up alone rather than worrying. Brick dust decorated the white sleeves of his shirt; the cufflinks glittered slightly in the poor light; the light catching on the outline of the design Arthur himself had chosen weeks ago as a late Valentines present, he had worried Eames would have no use for them but the man had loved them when Arthur had presented them to him, explaining they were more a symbol; a symbol of love, to make the few occasions Eames was forced into formal more bearable. Arthur tilted his head slightly and took in Eames outfit properly. The combination of objects was the base of a tuxedo; he recognised the cut of the shirt and pants as the one he had insisted Eames try at Giacomo’s. Arthur felt a shot of lust flood his veins remembering the view he had been treated to while Eames had been fitted.

Arthur stood in stunned silence. The lust racing through his body tempered when he looked up to meet Eames eye’s once more there were tears streaming down the man’s cheeks, their tracks showing starkly through the collected brick dust and Arthur swore the sight was breaking his heart, he didn’t even know how long they had been there. "Eames...”

"No don't Arthur, don’t sit there looking like a kicked puppy. I'm sorry you feel betrayed but I swear I'm trying so hard. I think this is killing me, this pressure, I feel like I'm fucking losing it all the time.” Eames turned away from him and moved the lamp so it shone into the hallway instead of the room they occupied; the action forced them both into the shadows but Eames more so.  “Just go Darling, go and if you want to talk to me in the morning I'll be here but if you don't. If you've had enough, I get it, of course I do.” Eames voice was quite again and Arthur wished he would stop hiding, now that he had seen that pain he couldn’t un-see it. “I'm a lot to take on love you've said it right from the start. You don't do fixer uppers and this." Eames indicated the expanse of room all around them, Arthur followed the shadow that was visible and saw the side of Eames profile come into the light once more. “I am a fixer upper, I’m trying so hard not to be but I really am and I think I might always be a little bit broken.”  

Arthur allowed himself the indulgence of a moment of uncontrolled crying before he flung himself bodily at Eames. He plastered his upper body to the man’s chest and wrapped his arms as tightly as possible around his neck. He peppered the man’s face and chest with teary eyed kisses while he murmuring his apologies into the very skin of the man he loved. Arthur peeled himself away and attempted to regain some control, Eames was regarding him with a combination of shock and confusion playing across his features. Arthur’s hands were shaking on Eames shoulders but he couldn’t bring himself to pull them off. He tightened his grip. He refused to let go to allow Eames to think for one moment more that he would leave. Arthur would rather cling to him. In a manner similar to that of a limpet. 

“Arthur” Eames whispered.

They moved into the kiss without a great deal of thought for positioning or pressure and as such the resulting meeting of lips was more a clash of teeth and enough pressure to draw blood than anything as sweet or delicate as Eames bearing his soul deserved. Arthur would not stop at just one though, he lost himself in moving his lips over Eames’, on drawing that beautifully thick bottom lip between his teeth and biting lightly.

“Eames. Please.” Arthur moaned around the name, punctuating his request with a multitude of closed mouth kisses; he started pawing at the buttons on Eames dress trousers clarifying his request. “Please.”

Eames gripped Arthur’s wrists but rather than being moved backwards towards the wall, as Arthur had envisioned in his minds eye, Eames just held them at Arthur’s sides restraining him from making further progress with getting Eames naked. He had managed the hook but not the button, Arthur would be having words with Giacomo about allowing ease of access next time, he knew he was unlikely to do so in reality but the thought went some way to combating the pout he felt forming on his lips.

“Arthur no, I don’t know what’s going on with you but sex isn’t the answer to this problem.” Eames was trying to be logical, why was it whenever Arthur wanted to be spontaneous and perhaps a little reckless Eames always put a stop to it. Arthur could respect the desire for logic that but he could also reason with the man. Arthur was excellent at reasoning, he opened his mouth to detail the very logical answer he was still formulating but Eames placed a single thick finger across his lips to silence his protest and was successful in thoroughly distracting his train of thought, god those fingers, he wanted them on him. He wanted them in him. “Also you’ve been drinking. I can taste that cheap wine Cobb insists everyone drink on your lips.”

“Not that much, you know I hate that stuff.” Arthur whined, in truth he had been feeling the two glasses of red wine when he had arrived but between the adrenaline surges, the emotional upheaval and his desperate clawing need for Eames, he could honestly say he was thinking as clearly as he needed to in order to be certain he wanted Eames, wanted him on him, in him, touching every part of his body.

Arthur struggled against Eames grip trying to get closer to the body underneath the crisp white material, he wanted to follow the lines of the tribal design tattoo Eames had decorating right bicep with his tongue, mostly because he knew it always made Eames squirm and moan lightly. He told Eames as much and judging by the tight intake of breath Arthur heard him take provided him with the shot of confidence he needed to make his next move.

“You asked me to see you Eames and to look and understand. I am trying. You need to understand that I cannot read your mind; I’m not accustomed enough to your thinking to understand the meaning behind every move you make. But I hear you and I see you.” Arthur explained leaning forwards to place a kiss on the other man’s left cheek.

Eames grip moved from Arthur’s wrists down to his hands and Arthur interlinked their fingers slowly bringing the left up to kiss the tips of each of his loves fingers and the inside of his wrist. He allowed his tongue to dart out and trace the vein so he could feel the steady pulse of Eames blood for himself. Arthur resisted pushing his face against Eames chest so he could take in the comfort of his heartbeat throbbing under his ear. He had fallen into seeking out that noise in times of distress; when his anxiety spilled over into his dreams and he was faced by endless bouts of insomnia he would lie awake with his ear plastered to Eames chest and allow the steady beat of his love’s heart to lull him away from panic.

“Je vous connais Eames” Arthur had never tested Eames understanding of French beyond the phrases he had shouted out in bed so he poured meaning into his tone, stepping closer to his English man he placed his hand over Eames heart feeling it’s gentle throb under his hand. “Je sais que votre cœur.Pardonnez-moi mon amour.” Arthur said while Eames fingers caressed the palm of his hand.Arthur moved closer still to hear Eames whispered question. 

“That last bit. What did it mean?” Eames moved to nuzzle under his ear; the move may have been distracting if Arthur hadn’t been on a mission. “Pardonnez-moi mon amour; Forgive me my love. Je t’aime, Je t’aime.” Arthur had told Eames he loved him in every language he knew and the grin Arthur could see spreading across his face told him the man remembered. 

“I love you too Arthur, always Darling.” The kiss Eames brushed across Arthur’s lips was chaste and sweet. A soft press of lips that Arthur had to hope symbolised more than his own, slightly drunken, French could ever hope to capture.  

 “I want you, I always want you.” Arthur said while he suppressed the part of his brain shouting that he sounded like the erstwhile heroine of a romance novel and focused on the way Eames shuddered when he whispered in his ear. “Je veux que tu me baises. Baise-moi. Baise-moi dur.” 

“You want me to fuck you pet?” Arthur nodded his head hard as he scrambled to get a strong grip on the other man's shoulders. 

Arthur whispered ‘please’ in Eames ear in any language he thought the man might comprehend. Arthur started frotting against the other man’s thigh wildly hoping to relieve the throbbing pressure of his erection; lust was overtaking his senses, he tilted his head back moaning quietly into the shadows surrounding them. 

“I will but only if you can remember the word. Do you remember the word darling? Tell me it and then I’ll fuck you.” Eames said.

All Arthur could manage was a quiet groan in response; his head swirled with the combination of Eames scent and the unprecedented lust the question exposed his senses to, he found himself thoroughly overwhelmed. Eames would have allowed him to fuck himself to completion on his leg, rubbing and grinding wildly, without a complaint leaving his lips. Eames had never made a secret of the level of pleasure he derived from watching Arthur come but he wouldn’t participate unless Arthur could remember their safe word. Eames liked to refer to it as a sanity check in moments like this; ‘safe, sane and consensual’ always. Arthur had chosen it, at Eames request, after their first day in his apartment when they’d pushed the limits of Arthur’s mostly vanilla sex life into something so deliciously Eames Arthur could hardly stand it. The man had a seemingly unlimited repertoire of moves that could make Arthur lose his mind whenever he could tempt Eames into something morerisqué then the slow and beautiful press of bodies they shared normally. 

“Please Eames.” Arthur murmured into the man’s neck before he dropped his lips and teeth to the crux of it and creating a bruise for the make-up department to complain about for days. Eames seemed to give in for a moment and allowed himself to rut against Arthur bringing his thigh up to more effectively apply pressure to Arthur’s erection. It provided Arthur with a modicum of relief, breaking through the lustful haze and moment of desperation that had descended on his brain. “God, harder Eames harder.” 

“Tell me the word Arthur.” Eames disentangled their legs and began moving their bodies steadily backwards until Arthur felt the cool press of exposed plaster through his suit jacket. He trembled when Eames hooked his fingers through Arthur’s belt loops and dragged him forwards until the distinct line of Eames erection was pressed firmly against his own, Arthur whined at the teasing pressure, he knew he would come the second Eames touched him skin to skin but Arthur found he could almost believe that would be satisfactory.

Eames began planting kisses across Arthur’s cheeks, the tip of his nose, the corner of his eyes before finally pressing his firm lips gently against Arthur’s own.“Tell me the word” Eames said.

“T…To...” Eames made a distinct noise of encouragement against Arthur’s cheek before placing two fingers under his chin and tilting his head back exposing his pale neck to a litany of Eames biting kisses. “Totem” Arthur said on an exhalation of breath a moment of embarrassment followed at the needy noise he made as Eames cupped his erection through his dress trousers. The flat press, and continued pressure thereafter, of his lovers hand was not designed to incite an orgasm but rather to push him back from the brink of one. It bordered the barrier between pleasure and discomfort perfectly and Arthur felt himself entering the headspace his time with Eames, like this, had helped him develop. It was a level of sexual serenity he had never found with another, it perhaps came from the act of submission but to Arthur’s mind it was less about that and more about the trust, he could trust Eames to take control in any situation where Arthur’s was impaired. He had found that with few others and never with a lover, if the feeling happened to also lead to the most incredible orgasms of his life so be it, but it was that exchange that they both seemed to thrive off, Eames growing more confident in himself and his movements as he felt Arthur seed control .

Nothing could have repressed the moan that left Arthur’s throat moments later when he heard the distinctive noise of his zipper being lowered. “Eames…”

“Shhhh Darling…just enjoy it. Let go for me love.” Fingers ghosted over the front of Arthur’s erection lightly. “Shall we take these off?” Eames asked plucking at the material of his trousers lightly. Arthur nodded his assent quickly.

The nod seemed to signal the start of an race between the two of who could get naked the fastest, Arthur being the more experienced suit wearer didn’t struggle with the buttons to the same degree as Eames and Arthur found himself moments later completely naked facing a frustrated English man who was still struggling with his set of cufflinks, while his shirt sat undone exposing his chest and nipples to Arthur’s view, he moved his right hand up quickly to pinch one inciting a yip from his unsuspecting lover.  

Arthur dropped to his knees while Eames continued to struggle and started mouthing at the material covered crotch in front of him; he nuzzled against Eames erection and felt it shift slightly against his face. Arthur murmured against wool blend material. Eames gave up his futile attempt to remove the starts of his tuxedo and dropped his hands to cup Arthur’s face lightly.

“What do you want pet?” Eames asked as he ran his thumb over Arthur’s kissed bruised bottom lip.

“I want to taste you, I want you in my mouth Eames and then I want you to fuck me so hard I’ll feel it for a week.” Arthur stated, proud of how clear sounded when faced with the enticing view of Eames half dressed in his finery. He looked up to meet Eames eyes his face was no doubt sporting the dimples the man loved so much and Arthur indulged himself momentarily with watching the dilation of his partners pupils as he played with the head of the other man’s erection through the material of his trousers. “Would you like that Eames letting yourself go and fucking me to completion? You’d make me moan so loud, make me lose control, have me begging for your dick to be in me before you’d even got me prepped enough to take you. I’d let you have any part of me you wanted, all you have to do is ask Eames. All you ever have to do is ask” Arthur shifted forward on his knees and used his tongue to trace along the zip fastening of Eames trousers, tasting the distinct flavour of metal, until his tongue found the means to complete his goal of freeing the teasing flesh of Eames erection. He used his teeth to drag the zip down finding his own shiver of anticipation mirrored in his lovers frame above him.

“Christ Arthur the things you do to me.”

“I haven’t done anything yet Mr. Eames, but I’m about to.” Arthur drew the head of Eames penis into his mouth and sucked lightly. He took the distinct flavour of Eames pre-cum into his mouth and moaned around the flush, knowing that as he did the resulting vibrations would likely push Eames into his more vulgar mindset.

Arthur heard Eames hand slap against the plaster wall above him five minutes in and was forced to close his eyes against the resulting dust, sex on a building site perhaps sexier in theory than reality, but it was worth it for the steady flow of salty flavour decorating his tongue. Arthur moved his hands to grips Eames buttocks firmly, pulling him deeper until he felt Eames at the back of his throat. He held him there steadily regaining his steady breathing before swallowing around his lovers flesh twice. He had perfected the move in college and was particularly fond of the result deep throating Eames in this manner when it reduced him to a litany of British swear words and borderline derogatory pet names, Eames never took it too far but, those names were like a hotline to Arthur’s libido. Arthur allowed himself a quick moment to breath while basking in Eames garbled praise when Arthur covered his erection in tiny kisses. He palmed himself quickly fighting off the urge willing him to forget Eames pleasure and bring himself off right there while he nuzzled Eames balls but he trusted Eames to take care of him, he allowed himself four swift pulls before he set back to work bobbing his head in time with Eames grunts of pleasure, losing himself to the rhythmic sway of Eames hips and the feel of his tongue swirling the head of Eames length whenever he pulled his mouth back to take a breath. The light tugging sensation that resulted from Eames running his fingers through Arthur’s hair was delicious enough to elicit a near constant groan from Arthur.  

Arthur continued with a steady suction and rhythm until Eames grasped his hair sharply causing him to cry out and release Eames in the same moment. Eames changed his grip choosing instead to card his fingers lightly through Arthur’s brunette locks soothing the slight soreness he had left moments ago.

“Sorry pet but you weren’t listening and I didn’t want to come on you pretty tongue. No matter how talented it is.” Eames said as he gripped Arthur under his arms and pulled him to his feet.

Eames was right in regard to the listening; Arthur had lost himself in the rhythm and pleasure of having Eames pulsing flesh in his mouth, running his tongue over the engorged veins and tracing his teeth lightly over the frenulum a move that often resulted in Eames beginning a form of mindless thrusting Arthur knew indicated a quickly approaching orgasm, he pouted at the loss while Eames rummaged in his pockets. He pulled out his wallet moments later with a slight noise of victory that drew a giggle from Arthur where he leaned his back against the wall with his arms loosely encircling Eames shoulders.

“Giggle all you like now pet but I’ll have you screaming in a minute.”

Arthur sighed deeply in mock disappointment, “Promises, promises Mr. Eames. Here’s hoping they’re not empty words.” Arthur said.

Eames smirked up at him raising an eyebrow a he freed the hidden packet of lube from his leather wallet before throwing the item to his left and causing some unseen item to go tumbling to the floor with a crash. “Turn around Arthur.”

Arthur turned on the spot; revealing his back to Eames in the process. “Excellent love.” Eames praised quietly, his hot breath evident against Arthur’s ear.

Eames bought his hand down swiftly to slap against Arthur’s backside. They’d toyed momentarily with spanking before Arthur had decided the action wasn’t truly for him. The occasion slap, such as this one, would cause a shocked gasp of pleasure, as it did, but anything more drawn out and he lost interest quickly. Eames had declared him a veritable pleasure seeker it was something that had delighted the English man no end.

“Bend for me; palms flat against the wall and legs spread.” Arthur complied without a sound. “God you’re so beautiful like this.” Arthur felt the teasing fingers stroke his spine once more running down its length, coming closer to the swell of Arthur’s buttocks with each pass. “The things I want to do to you Arthur, you have no idea. That mouth of yours, your clever hands, this beautiful hole,” Eames dropped to his knees behind Arthur without warning and ran his tongue over Arthur’s perineum while he used his forefinger to probe the ring of muscle loosening it with a combination of massage and the occasional flick of his tongue “All those things combined with your incredible mind and I’d be a goner every time.” Arthur attempted to stifle his moan with his forearm but received a light reprimand for the action when Eames pinched the fleshy part of his thigh quickly. “Now now love you know I like to hear you, be good and loud for me darling. Let me know how much you want this.”

Arthur complied with little prompting; allowing the next moan that bubbled up to echo around the room, he kept up a litany of requests; ‘please’, ‘harder’, ‘more’ forming the standard but he occasionally drifted into French and Italian, demanding Eames attention on certain parts of his body always tilting the relevant part towards his lovers mouth or hands as a non-verbal request. Eames knowledge of the language was limited but his understanding of Arthur’s body appeared unending.

He spread the lube generously between three fingers and his palm reaching around Arthur to grip his erection solidly and pull in conjunction with the thrusts of his fingers. They were practiced moves; they’d perfected the methods of preparation for each of them. Eames preferred something perfunctory; swift scissoring fingers increasing in number until he had been sufficiently stretched. Arthur indulged him normally, always as eager to be inside Eames as the man was to welcome Arthur into his body. But for Arthur foreplay was integral; it took him longer to relax his body, even with Eames, for penetration. He adored the feeling once Eames pushed inside him but the build up was something he always needed to be played out slowly.  Eames never complained, even now with two of his fingers buried inside Arthur seeking out his prostate he kept up a constant stream of praise.

“You’re taking my fingers so well love. Do you want another?” Arthur nodded in response his ability to form English words diminished somewhat. He muttered out ‘Oui’ numerous times when Eames breached his hole with a third finger, he thrust backwards to meet them in their thrusting. “You’re doing wonderfully darling, just a little longer.” Arthur hung his head, eyes watering while he watched Eames hand cover his erection stroking in time with the gentle thrust of his fingers, he watched in fascination as Eames caught a drop of pre-cum on his fingers and spread it across the head making it glisten slightly to Arthur’s view.

Arthur screamed out when Eames located his prostate, the pleasure was sudden and so intense Arthur wriggled away from it the action dislodging Eames fingers but increasing the pressure on his dick. “Please Eames, please, I’m ready. Please I need you.” Arthur begged softly, he let the tears he’d been holding back fall freely down his cheek as he pressed his forehead to the cool wall.

“Shhhh Darling, I’ve got you.” Eames turned him, supporting him at his waist until his back hit the wall. Arthur closed his eyes to the slight increase in light. He felt wrecked, his body thrumming with lust and frustration. “Do you trust me pet?”

“Always Eames, I always trust you.” Arthur whispered.

“Open your eyes my love, let me see you.” Eames asked. Arthur complied opening his eyes a crack and finding himself faced with a gentle smile. The sadness from earlier wasn’t completely lost and Arthur found himself lost momentarily in the worry that Eames might never truly see how much he wanted him. “I need you to grip my shoulders Arthur, will you do that?” Arthur nodded and took a hold of the material with the last vestiges of his strength. “I want to feel you in my arms, tell me if it’s too much love and we’ll stop.” Eames knelt down slightly supporting Arthur backside as he positioned Arthur to safely lift him.

 Arthur loved this position, there was something about having his feet off the floor relying on Eames for his safety  and the positioning allowed Eames to drag across his prostate almost constantly; he never lasted long like this. Eames lifted him slowly; watching him like a hawk for even a hint of panic but Arthur trusted him, loved him passionately and wanted him filling him more than he had in a long while. He gripped more fiercely to the man’s shoulders and pulled himself up helping a little to position his legs over Eames hips. Eames laid gently kisses across his face before meeting his lips as he pressed inside. He caught Arthur moan between his lips and held them still while Arthur accepted and grew used to the intrusion.

“Move Eames, please, move.” Arthur said softly in his ear as he tightened his arms momentarily in a quick embrace. He moved back then, trusting Eames to hold him steady, until his shoulder blade met the wall again. He used the position to start up an unsteady thrusting; pulling himself infinitesimally over Eames dick. He felt and heard the moment Eames control finally slipped; felt it in the swift hard thrust of his dick and heard it in his lovers groan of submission, in his own cry of pleasure as Eames hammered against his prostate and he heard it in the steady beat of wet slick thrusts that filled the room as they both moved. They were unsynchronised; their rhythm off by Arthur’s awkward position but it didn’t stop Eames from finding a punishing repetitive rhythm with his hips. 

Arthur’s orgasm was swift and overwhelming. He cried out as he felt his body contract around Eames, the warm spread of his release spread across his stomach as he lost his grip on Eames shoulders but Eames moved quickly securing Arthur between the wall and his chest. Eames thrusts grew slower and shallower as he supported Arthur’s weight through the tremors of his orgasm. Arthur forced himself to grip tightly around him; both with his arms around his lovers shoulders and with the muscles surrounding Eames inside him. He watched as Eames flew into his orgasm, his short stabbing thrusts bordering on painful during Arthur’s post-orgasm sensitivity but he loved Eames face when he finally let himself come; loved the feeling of it filling him quickly with a slight feeling of warmth.

“Love you baby.” Arthur whispered into Eames ear as he shuddered through his orgasm without releasing his tight grip on Arthur thighs. He’d likely have bruises in the morning but from experience he knew he would treasure the reminder of this moment. 

“Love you too darling,” Eames kissed his cheek before pulling out slowly and simply holding Arthur between the wall and his chest. “I should put you down shouldn’t I?”

“Only if you think you’d drop me.”

“I’d never drop you Arthur.”

“I know; that’s one of the reasons I love you Eames.” 

Eames did let him down a few minutes later. They found themselves wrapped within a cocoon of suit jackets and dusty blankets in a corner of the room Arthur had first found Eames in.  Arthur laid with his back to Eames chest; surrounded by his arms and his scent he allowed himself to doze slightly while Eames traced lines between the few blemishes on his chest.

“You know shagging doesn’t solve the problems don’t you. We’ve got some serious shit going on Arthur. Both of us do.” Eames said into the back of his head.

“I know, but we can figure them out. Sort them out together this time. I didn’t see that you needed me Eames and I’m going to have to live with that. But now I do, I see it and I understand. I can help, I can run point for you on this project or on anything else. You only ever need to ask Eames, I’m always here and I always want to help.” Arthur said while he cradled Eames hands revealing his palms so Arthur could lay closed lipped kisses all over them.

“I’m going try to make more time for you, I will, but I  just don’t know how I can do all of it.”

“You can do it, you can do it all and I’m going to help you. Don’t worry baby, we can do this together.”

“Promise you won’t flip out again.” Eames asks quietly. Arthur turned and positioned himself on his knees between Eames spread legs. He laid a hand over the strong beat of his boyfriends heart and smiled to himself.

“I can’t promise I won’t lose my cool, I’m still me, but I promise it won’t be because I don’t think you’re doing enough. You’re doing so much, I see that now. I can’t promise I won’t lose my cool because when I love something, or someone, as much as I love you I tend to go a little crazy.” Arthur places his finger gently against Eames lips as the curled up into a smirk. “You don’t need to confirm that Mr. Eames.”  Eames nipped lightly at his finger and Arthur felt himself grin in response. “I do promise this though, I’ll never stop caring. As long as we’re here and we’re us, I will never stop caring about you Eames. You’re mine, just like I’m yours. Everything else along the way we’ll deal with.” Eames nodded in response and Arthur moved his finger only to replace it with his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> A.N: I can only apologise for the french if it's wrong. I tried my best with my limited french knowledge. I don't think my gran's ever taught me any of those words!


End file.
